


Tangled Between Your Little Flaws

by Watabi12



Series: You're A doll//You Are Flawless [2]
Category: Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom!Richard, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Money kink, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Rimming, Romantic Fluff, Strippers & Strip Clubs, control play, sub!Taron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 23:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20016751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watabi12/pseuds/Watabi12
Summary: Richard wants to surprise Taron but it doesn't go how he anticipates.





	Tangled Between Your Little Flaws

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Taste You On My Tongue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19713979) by [Watabi12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watabi12/pseuds/Watabi12). 



> Another from these dudes! It does lead on from the last one (link above) so I would read that first. Thanks for reading! Comments appreciated.

Richard meandered into his home office with a bowl of cereal. It was 7am. Birds swooned in the groggy London daylight. He had a gruelling few days of meetings and photoshoots that had left little time for sleep; let alone anything else. He put the cereal down on his desk next to the computer screen. He sat down, picking up his mobile phone from the desk. Nothing. He was the last one to message so he had been waiting for Taron to get back to him. For two days. He knew how this went - people get ghosted all the time. He thought about the moment they shared; tied up in each other where Richard saw into the man's soul.

The whole thing was stupid. _What did they owe each other?_ And yet, he knew he would actually be a little bit broken if Taron had sacked him off without a single word. He shook his head at himself and looked at the screen; pressing on the Netflix icon and picking up his cereal. Richard had almost finished watching the second series of 'Good Girls'. It only took him 20 minutes in until he'd put his cereal down; too invested in the show. He scanned through his emails aimlessly on his phone - making notes in his head about what he should do today. It was so nice to get a day at home in the office. He was starting to forget what that felt like.

He busied himself with work until lunchtime. Numerous black coffees later, he felt like he had achieved very little. He knew that he ought to check in on the office but even calling felt too much. He huffed back into his chair and the wheels jerked slightly at the movement. He wiped his face, admitting to himself how tired he truly was. Into the silence, his phone buzzed.

_Rope Taron: Hey, sorry. Been working the last few nights and sleeping during the day. Hope you've not found someone else ;)_

Richard smiled as he read it. No. He hadn't. He had very little intention of it either. His heart raced and a feeling of relief seized him. Thank fuck. Thank fuck he hadn’t lost him. It wouldn't hurt to play along…

_Me: Good Afternoon. Don't worry about it. What would you do if I had?_

Maybe that was cruel but his gut twisted with excitement against the dullness of his office.

_Rope Taron: Suppose I'd have to accept I'd missed my chance. Or remind you what you'd be missing..._

Richard scoffed to himself. He really liked this dude. His sassy sense of humour, his honesty, his continuous ability to make everything feel better.

_Me: Well, how would you propose to do that?_

Richard thought they were vibing. But he was completely taken off guard by Taron's next response.

_Rope Taron: Is there someone else?_

Richard read it twice. He swallowed. His heart racing. Was - did he really care? He wanted nothing more than to believe that he was Taron’s _special someone_ but he’d been hurt too many times; had his confidence smashed and he wasn’t the type of man that could just put his heart on the line and hope for the best. He was too old for that now. Richard decided to reciprocate his serious tone.

_Me: No. How about you?_

_Rope Taron: What do you think?_

Richard rolled his eyes. Brat.

_Me: Don't be a brat._

Taron took a second to respond which made Richard nervous.

_Rope Taron: When can I see you?_

Richard breathed out. Thank God. He didn't like the sense of recklessness that Taron gave him. He wanted to keep an element of control.

_Me: When would you like to see me?_

_Rope Taron: Whenever you want._

Richard smirked. _Be careful what you wish for…_ Richard thought about responding. Something in him rose up, something mischievous and sadistic.

_Me: Are you on shift tonight?_

_Rope Taron: Yes, unfortunately._

Richard smirked to himself. He’d never step foot in a strip club before that night. He was just so fed up, lonely and tired of everything that he decided to use the only thing he truly had at his disposal – money. He could have gone to a club and tried to woo someone, he was told he was fairly attractive but that was far more than he was mentally capable of – easier to pay someone to look hot, wreck the bank account a little and go home, feeling thoroughly unimpressed with himself. Now, he could say he knew someone there. His – _what_ – date? He wasn’t sure what to call him. He liked Taron a lot but he knew how it went; it wasn’t the first time he’d fucked someone and it all fell apart when things became too real.

He looked at the response. He wanted to surprise Taron with his appearance. He clicked on the message to respond but then his phone rang – a business call, no doubt. He instinctively answered the call, forgetting about the reply.

‘Hello, Richard Madden speaking… Oh, Jeremy. Hi, how are you?’

*

Richard sat in his running car in the car park of the club. Queen was playing on _Magic Radio_ and he looked pensively into the night with his window down. Sirens blared and people were smoking and shouting. Richard wondered if Taron had ever felt scared. He hoped not but he knew the world better than that. The area itself was pretty decent, the nice end of Soho. Most of the punters were posh or wealthy people that had an entitlement that made them despisable but a reputation to protect that meant they were generally behaved. Richard figured he looked the same the first time, in a suit and watch; flashing his money at Taron like a banker and quite possibly, a _twat_.

He didn’t know why – maybe it was because he didn’t grow up with money – he had a minor kink in paying for things. He thought about when he saw Taron up onstage for the first time in those ridiculous platforms and hot pants – and he honestly never thought he had seen a man so beautiful in his entire life; the manner in which his body flexed and his aura smashed around the room like fireworks… His pulse raced just remembering it. He switched the radio off, pressing the ‘off’ button on his car. He opened the car door and stepped out. He was wearing black skinny jeans with a ribbed white t-shirt and a black jacket that had a sheep skin collar. Nothing too fancy this time.

Richard walked across the car park, looking down at the ground – he didn’t need to be spotted and he certainly didn’t want any trouble. It was warm and loud inside, almost exclusively made up of men, except for a few waitresses and strippers. Richard went towards the bar where the same man was serving that had been last time he was there. Still as tacky as last time. Jamie, he thought his name was. He was wiping down the bar with a cloth as Richard propped himself up on a barstool. Strippers danced, flaunting their wares and despite the half-naked people; only Taron in his ridiculously tight, rent boy hot pants caught Richard’s attention.

‘What can I get you?’ Jamie asked with a polite smile.

‘Alright Jamie,’ Richard said. ‘I’d like a beer please.’

Jamie nodded. ‘You were in here a few days ago. Couldn’t keep away?’

Jamie turned to the fringe, producing a glass bottle. Richard smiled. He turned back to look at Taron. ‘Something like that.’

Taron was doing a great job, he looked hot as fuck out there. A few older men were throwing five pounds notes in his direction; this annoyed Richard – the disrespect they were casting over him and the fact they thought his body was worth five measly pounds. But Richard knew it was more than that – he was protective, possessive even, over Taron. The thought of one of those men leering at him; trying to touch him made his blood boil. Probably not the best trait for someone potentially going out with a stripper, he reprimanded himself. But he couldn’t control himself – he wanted Taron for his own.

He watched from the side, sipping his beer; not drawing attention to himself. He was happy to watch from the side lines whilst he plotted his next move. Every now and then faded yellow or purple blotches stuck out on Taron’s skin and Richard’s stomach flicked knowing that he had been the perpetrator. Richard couldn’t think about what they did without his blood pumping through his body like motorway vehicles and his cock awaking. He shook the thought away into the wind as he saw Taron push up onto the pole, grinding against it in all the right positions. One of the old men at the front stretched up, touching Taron’s thigh and Taron smiled at him, strode up to him and grinded in the man’s face. The man responded by touching Taron’s bulge. Richard saw the second of panic and anger flicker across Taron’s face before he simply laughed and backed away. Richard gripped onto the bottle in fury. If he was a less emotionally controlled person, he would for sure have been causing a scene about now. Instead, he turned to Jamie.

‘Do you think I can get a private show with T- Freddie?’

Jamie smirked. ‘Money upfront,’ Jamie said.

‘I know.’ Thank God he was loaded and thank God, everything was done by cards – even sex work.

Jamie got out the card machine. He called one of the waitresses over and told her to tell Taron about the request.

‘That’s perfect,’ Jamie said, holding onto the printed receipt like a shop assistant. ‘Censi will show you the way.’ A dark, blonde women in a bikini smiled at Richard and he followed her to the very backroom that had brought them together. It was the same – a leather sofa, a coffee table, a few cabinets, a bar and a music system. A security guard nodded at him as he went in.

‘Get comfy, he’ll be right through,’ Censi smiled.

‘Thanks,’ Richard replied as Censi walked away. He couldn’t contain the excitement inside of him. He couldn’t wait to see Taron’s face. He meandered over to the couch and slid onto it, slipping his jacket and shoes off. He heard Taron open the door from the side and he walked in with the same friendly indifference that he had the time before.

Taron’s face changed into such a perfect picture. He let the door close as he halted where he was; completely taken aback. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips trembled, his arms found their way to his sides.

‘Rich?’ Taron swallowed. He moved closer towards him.

‘Hello baby,’ Richard grinned, trouble deep in his voice.

‘What are you -?’ Taron puffed.

‘You said I could see you whenever I wanted,’ Richard flirted.

Taron stomped closer. ‘Yeah but I obviously didn’t mean. What the fuck? Was this supposed to be sexy? What the fuck is wrong with you?’ Taron yelled.

Richard smiled. ‘Well, I suppose next time you’ll just have to be more specific.’

‘Rich, I’m being serious – you can’t just show up where I work like this…’

‘I thought you’d like it,’ Richard shouted back. ‘I was being spontaneous.’

‘Well, when I said I had exciting hobbies – potential boyfriends _stalking_ me at work wasn’t quite what I meant.’

The air around them was filled with a confused concoction of lust and anger.

‘No, you’d rather give lap dances to complete strangers,’ Richard argued back. ‘You’re _mine_.’

Taron looked at him with a distasteful look and he just fucking knew he’d crossed some invisible line. ‘You knew what I did before you fucked me but if it bothers you, you owe me nothing,’ Taron shouted dramatically. Taron moved closer to Richard until their knees were touching. He didn’t know if Taron was about to punch him the face or kiss him.

Richard’s mind whirled. He thought about how it looked. It did seem weird. He had got so swept in trying to be dominate and hot that he – had completely misjudged the entire thing. He leant out and grabbed Taron’s wrists. Taron tried to pull away but Richard gripped onto them harder and Taron relented.

‘I’m sorry, T,’ Richard sighed. ‘I thought it would be hot and unexpected but I’m seeing it how you see it and it just looks….’

Taron’s hard jaw rose up into a tiny smile. ‘It is _hot_ but you should have mentioned it,’ Taron said, more calmly. ‘At least told me you were coming.’

Richard raised his eyebrows suggestively, his thumb absently traced over Taron’s veins. ‘So I’m a potential boyfriend, then?’ Richard whispered.

Taron chuckled. Richard let his wrists lose. Taron bent down, leaning in until his lips were millimetres away. Richard could feel the man’s hot, heavy breath hit his skin. He swallowed. ‘Wafer thin ice,’ Taron joked. Then after, to Richard’s surprise: ‘Absolutely. I really like you.’ He leant in and kissed Richard on the lips, Richard kissed him back softly and they breathed in harmony. ‘Even if you are a controlling div.’

‘How long do you have left on shift?’

Taron picked up Richard’s arm and twisted it until he could see the man’s watch. ‘About forty minutes.’

‘Are you still going to give me a lap dance?’

Taron rolled his eyes. ‘You’re an idiot. You know I would have done it for free.’

‘Maybe paying for you makes me hard,’ Richard cooed. He made his voice as rich and deep as he could. He liked playing with Taron, resembling a child with a favourite toy – he wanted to push him and pull him, all the time hoping he won’t break. Taron bit down on his bottom lip, half closing his eyes. Richard watched as Taron’s hand reached down and pressed lightly at his groin through his jeans. Richard relished the friction but he didn’t let Taron know it.

‘If I give you a lap dance, will you take me back to yours?’ Taron murmured.

Richard’s heart beat faster; his stomach felt like butterflies had sprouted in it tenfold. Richard couldn’t help himself, his fingertips gripped at Taron’s jaw and he brought the man into a rough kiss that Taron had absolutely no control over, relenting entirely; his body jerking as Richard held him and pressed their tongue together.

‘Yes,’ Richard gasped. ‘Besides, I’ve already paid for it.’ They both laughed and Taron pushed back, getting into his starting position. All Richard could think about was how much he wanted this to work out and how much he wanted to fuck this man into the mattress in equal measure.

*

They barely made it into Richard's house before Taron found himself pinned up against a wall. Taron loved feeling Richard all over him, grabbing and kissing like he had entirely consumed Richard's mind. Richard kissed him roughly, trailing his lips slowly down Taron's jaw; lingering at the sensitive area near the back and then continued down his neck. His lips were soft like duck feathers from a pillow. His strong hands clung to his upper arms. Taron tried to focus on breathing properly but it was easier said than done when Richard was biting the skin on his neck and jerking into him. Richard pulled back with a satisfied smile and all Taron had in him were shivers and small whines.

'Good boy,' Richard whispered.

Taron pouted and his eyes struggled against rolling. Richard laughed and started to walk through from the corridor into the open kitchen/lounge area. The house was pretty, in a generic sort of way. Neutral tones and black furniture. Richard smiled.

'It's rented,' Richard shrugged.

Taron saw a couple of different vinyl prints scattered around the walls - a few of women or men, some more abstract, a couple of MCU prints. The only true signs that a person had moved in at all. There was virtually no mess. A mug and a plate by the sink but no crumbs or food was left anywhere. 'My sister cleans my house once a week. She's a cleaner.' It was like Richard could see straight through Taron like ice. 'She cleaned yesterday.' Taron continued to stand awkwardly as Richard went towards the kitchen counters. 'Take a seat. Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, vodka?'

Richard filled up the kettle with water and set it. He grabbed a mug out of the cupboard and looked back at Taron for a response. 'Tea? Milk, no sugar.'

'Sure,' Richard nodded, grabbing another mug. Taron moved to the navy, suede sofa; sitting on it cautiously. He hated the first time at people’s houses. You never knew the rules or what to do with yourself. Taron always felt like a spare part.

‘You don’t have to worry about being polite. There’s not really any rules here. If you stain the carpet or whatever, I’ll only spank you a little,’ Richard jested.

Taron smiled back at him, trying really hard not to imagine Richard’s strong hands smacking his arse cheeks pink. He picked his phone out of Richard's jacket pocket, as he was still wearing nothing else but hot pants and socks, and looked through his notifications into the silence. It wasn't exactly awkward; more brooding - a lull in the excitement but he'd remembered something Richard had said about finding all silences awkward, Taron guessed that's why he had his back to him, staring at the kettle as it boiled.

'Says here that they are doing a movie about The Beatles,' Taron said.

Richard turned. 'That's interesting. Do you like them?’

‘Yeah, but who doesn't?' Taron shrugged.

‘They changed their generation forever. They were what Bowie was to the 70’s - to the 60’s.’

‘I love Bowie,’ Taron said quietly.

‘Me too,’ Richard said fondly.

Richard poured water into the mugs and then he went over to get the milk and poured that in. He brought both the mugs over and placed them on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Taron put his phone down on the table and glanced over towards Richard.

Richard was giving him a look. Taron buckled under the stern weight of his desire.

‘What?’ Taron asked.

‘Can I have my jacket back?’

Taron chuckled lightly. ‘So you can perv at me?’

‘Oh no, darling. I’m already doing that. I’ve being doing that since the day we met.’

Taron could have choked right there but instead he pushed that hot longing down into his bones and slipped out of Richard’s jacket; slowly – letting Richard get a good look at everything. He handed him the jacket with a smile. Richard’s face was red and his hands were clenched into the fabric of the sofa.

Richard moved in, his mouth found Taron’s shoulder. Taron sat back and revelled as the man bared his teeth into the skin, sucking hotly. It hurt. Taron squirmed slightly from the pain, whining quietly.

‘Fuck Rich,’ Taron gasped.

‘I want to fuck you,’ Richard grunted, resting his head on Taron’s shoulder.

Taron cursed Richard. His hands came up to push through his hair, letting the desire bubble away in his stuttery thighs and trembling tummy. He leant in, kissing Richard on the forehead. Richard smiled softly. Taron’s heart felt like it had floated out of his mouth. Richard was so fucking beautiful.

‘I want that too,’ Taron muttered.

Richard chortled. He sat up, throwing his jacket on the floor and slipping off his t-shirt to reveal his perfectly toned body; hairs pricking up on his chest. Taron wanted nothing more than to have his tongue all over him.

‘Get those ridiculous hot pants off now,’ Richard said, it was an order but his voice was weak. Taron saw how the man’s hands shook slightly. He was already semi-hard in his jeans.

‘ _Ridiculous_ ,’ Taron snarked.

Richard looked up at him with a mischievous expression playing on his face. Taron tutted at him and pulled them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear this time so he pulled his hot pants down to reveal his cock, eyes locked with Richard’s the whole time. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched Richard break eye contact to look and Taron arched up to push the shorts completely off, struggling a little to get them over his platforms. Richard moved to kneel at Taron’s feet, undoing his shoes and sliding them off him. Then he kissed Taron’s calf and rolled his sock down, pulling it off – only to repeat this motion on the other leg. Taron was completely exposed on Richard’s sofa. Richard stood up, he fiddled with his belt – unbuckling it quickly before pulling his jeans off, then his socks, until he was left in just his crisp, black boxers.

‘Turn around and kneel on the sofa with your bum up,’ Richard said.

‘Fuck. What are you going to do?’ Taron breathed.

‘Just do it please,’ Richard said through gritted teeth.

Taron quivered a little as he shuffled to his knees on the sofa and turned, arching his back to stick his arse out. His hands were resting on the back of the couch for stability and he considered putting his head down too.

‘Hands behind your back, baby,’ Richard said softly.

Taron wasn’t sure how he would balance but he did as was told, letting go of the sofa to place his hands behind his back; angling his body so it could fall forward onto the couch cushions. He had anticipated that he would fall but Richard’s hands were on his sides, guiding him down delicately. Taron placed his head on the sofa as he felt Richard’s fingertips stroke softly down the sides of his arms.

‘Good boy,’ Richard whispered. ‘I’m going to eat you out.’

Taron almost choked at the amount of air that he breathed in. Before he had a chance to process Richard’s utterance, his hands were prizing his arse cheeks apart. Taron let out a whimpery sigh as Richard breathed against his hole.

‘Fuck, baby. You have such a pretty hole.’

Taron was sure he said ‘thank you’ but he couldn’t account for it. Richard lapped once, slow and rough before following this with a full on assault. He was like a cat lapping at milk; delicate but calculated. Taron struggled to keep his hands behind his back, throwing them out and gripping onto thin air. His whole body stuttered and shook against his will. Taron felt ready to take Richard long before Richard stopped. _Surely the man’s jaw must be cramping._ Richard continued, torturing Taron with his tongue. Until eventually, Taron spoke up.

‘Fuck. I’m. Oh. Oh. Fuck. I’m ready,’ Taron gasped.

Richard slapped Taron hard on his arse cheek and pulled back. Taron entire body vibrated and he breathed heavily as Richard let up on him.

‘Oh baby, you know you don’t call the shots,’ Richard purred. He pressed a fingertip against Taron wet hole and plunged in. Taron cried out pathetically. Richard slotted another one in easily. Taron cussed and whined. ‘Guess you are.’

Richard pulled away and Taron tried to work out what he was doing. He caught a vague glimpse of him in the reflection of the metal lamp standing next to the wall. Richard was standing up. He swiped his underwear off, dropping them to the floor. He was at Taron’s side again, he tongued the shell of Taron’s right ear.

‘I’m going to have to move you forward, okay? You can hold on now.’

Taron was relieved to get his hands back and he stretched out his arms, feeling them tingle with life and gripped onto the sofa. Richard grabbed onto his sides, pushing forward until he’d eliminated the space between his body and the back couch cushion. Richard pushed his legs slightly closer together and then Taron felt Richard’s legs closing in his as he settled - kneeling behind him, his hard cock nudged his lower back and he kissed his shoulder gently, his hands stretched out to hold onto Taron’s. Taron felt Richard’s cock slip inside him and he groaned, long and loud into the silence – he let his head fall back to rest into the crook of Richard’s neck. He’d been craving this since they met.

Richard fucked him in earnest, almost from the outset; rough and fast – hitting Taron’s prostate with each thrust. The man grunted as he pushed in and out. His body was hot and sweaty as both of them slapped together.

‘You’re so tight, T,’ Richard moaned. ‘So. Fucking. Good.’

Richard just kept fucking into him until at length, his body buckled and he let out a throaty moan of his own design. Taron felt Richard filling him up and that could have been enough to tip him over too if he wasn’t focussing on being good.

Richard pulled out, watching his come leak from Taron and Taron groaned loudly. ‘Sit down.’ Taron wasn’t sure he could after just being fucked within an inch of his life but he followed Richard’s instruction. Richard hopped off the sofa and Taron turned to face him, sitting down with a dull ache in his arse. He felt Richard’s come stick to him and tried to ignore it. Richard’s smirk was so big and mocking.

‘Fuck. You looked wrecked,’ Richard laughed. ‘Just how I want you.’

Taron nodded. ‘Yours,’ he said softly, far too gone to object. Richard knelt down between Taron’s legs. He kissed his thick thigh, letting his tongue dance along his skin.

‘Tell me when you’re close.’

Richard jerked Taron’s dick a couple of times and then opened his mouth; the tip of Taron’s cock disappearing between Richard’s fluffy pillow lips. Richard sucked at the tip. He fed Taron’s cock further down his mouth until he choked, he pulled back and took it again; slowly bobbing his head as he sucked – all the while with Taron moaning, whining, begging as he quaked under Richard’s touch. Taron felt his stomach clench as his orgasm finally approached him; all his muscles were so stretched and tired.

‘I’m close. Rich, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. _I can’t. Please_ ,’ Taron cried. He had tears in his eyes. Richard pulled off him and knelt back, looking at him with an amused expression.

‘I want you to wait. Can you do that for me? Be a good boy.’

Taron hips still jerked and he groaned with the effort to push his orgasm back; to swallow it inside himself. ‘Yes.’

Richard pushed up, into Taron’s space and kissed his nose; their foreheads melted together as they breathed. Everything suddenly fell to being tender. Taron was truly tied – not by anything that Richard could put him in but by the own strings of his heart.

*

Taron started from sleep. Richard was fast asleep beside him. He looked so peaceful; a ghost of the real life person who always seemed too busy to breath or always on edge about something. Asleep, he resembled a softer version of himself – light pales matched with dark features; angel expression. Taron tried not to think about it as he came to his feet and stretched, his muscles ungrateful for the exercise. Taron looked around at Richard’s humbly stylish home. He knew that snooping in the middle of the night would look slightly suspicious, let alone an invasion of his privacy, but he was curious. He wanted to _know_ him. The television was still on, playing some terrible early morning programme that nobody ever watched. Taron looked around, skulking from the living room to the closed door of Richard’s office. He glanced back at Richard, still fast asleep, and plunged in. The office seemed much like any other. There were folders, papers and a computer. Taron didn’t know what he was expecting to find...

There were a few photos of Richard with famous people – Miley Cyrus, Janelle Monae, Kate Moss, Mick Jagger – and others with Richard winning photography awards. Taron smiled to himself. The computer screen light flashed, still on. Taron wiggled the mouse, prompting the screen into motion. Taron sat down in the spinny chair. Richard had a folder with all the photos he’d taken from the wedding where they met – Taron guessed he’d been working on them before he left for the club. A few photos were open in the toolbar below and Taron clicked on one – his heart stopped in his chest. It was the photo that Richard had taken of him when they were sat together. Taron looked positively gross, totally his wrong angle. He couldn’t believe that Richard had been looking at him; thinking of him – his heart swelled.

Maybe they really were tangled around each other.

‘Anything else you’d like to check out whilst you’re here? Safe? Knicker drawer?’

Taron jumped and turned to find Richard leaning against the doorframe in his boxers and t-shirt. He still looked like a cloud; sleepy eyes and messy hair. Taron couldn’t tell if he was annoyed but he felt a sea of anxiety wash over him.

‘Sorry – I wasn’t -,’ Taron said.

Richard’s lips pulled up into a smile. ‘It’s fine. Slightly embarrassing that you found my very limited spank bank of you though.’

‘I’m honoured,’ Taron whispered. He stood up and walked up towards Richard. He took his face in his hands softly. He kissed Richard, it was lazy and romantic – Richard let him press into mouth, moulding their tongues together.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ Richard hummed.

‘Okay,’ Taron purred back. ‘But before we do, how would you feel about you not being a potential – about being the real thing?’ Richard looked shocked. ‘Oh God, it’s too soon.’ Taron felt like such an idiot. _Why had he said that? Talk about looking desperate._

‘No, it’s not. I was just not expecting you to… Wow. Of course. Yes,’ Richard said. ‘Is it okay if we keep it low key though? For now?’

‘Of course, whatever you need.’

‘Thank you.’

Taron grabbed Richard’s hand. ‘Lead the way then.’

Richard laughed, starting to walk in a direction which Taron guessed was the stairs. All he could think was _Richard Madden, famous Photographer - my boyfriend_. Something in Taron glowed with a fondness that he couldn’t account for. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was or where it came from as long as it didn’t stop.


End file.
